


You Can Leave It To Me (내게 맡겨두면 돼)

by Bazzys



Series: The Way You Make Me Feel [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Confident San, Gags, Handcuffs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Ilu Gabbie, M/M, Mingi and Wooyoung too but briefly, Multiple Orgasms, Or Was It The Other Way Round?, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Restraints, Semi-Public Sex, Seonghwa is mentioned, Wrote it for my boo, cawllection, shy yeosang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazzys/pseuds/Bazzys
Summary: In which it's Choi San who gets the biggest surprise on Yeosang's birthday





	You Can Leave It To Me (내게 맡겨두면 돼)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YeosangsTiddies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YeosangsTiddies/gifts).



“I figured out what I want for my birthday,” Yeosang mumbles one evening while they’re all gathered in the living room watching the latest Avenger movie. 

San’s excited eyes follow the high paced action scene intensely, not paying attention to his words as he utters a mindless “u-huh?” back at the older boy. He flinches at a particularly disturbing shot and snuggles closer to Yeosang under their shared blanket. 

Yeosang waits for a second before leaning closer, close enough for his lips to brush against the shell of his ear just in the slightest. “I want you,” he whispers, and basks in the surprised and wide-eyed look on the other’s face as he whips around to stare, movie now completely forgotten.

Which is how they end up like they are now; squeezed into the bottom bunk of San and Yunho’s shared room (Yeosang makes a mental not to apologise to Yunho later), gradually undressing each other as slow kisses and soft fingers explore the newly exposed territory. 

There’s been tension between them recently, or rather, it’s always been right _there_ , a steady and barely audible buzz, but recently it’s been more of an… air raid alarm blaring directly into Yeosang’s ear whenever they were even remotely close to each other. ‘Recently’ started the day San proudly marched up to Yeosang and asked him what he wanted for his birthday, that he’d get him anything he wanted as long as he could afford it. When Yeosang had protested, tried to say that he didn’t need a gift, San had blocked his ears, sung the drop of Pirate King and run from the room.

Since that day Yeosang had been sure to watch San’s behaviour very closely to see if this all was just a prank meant to humiliate him and make him embarrassed before giving him his real present. But all Yeosang managed to pick up with that battle plan was strategically timed winks and prolonged stares directed at him, to which he still had to hide his blushing cheeks.

Fingers pinch lightly at Yeosang’s left nipple, and he gasps into San’s smiling mouth. “Like that, huh? You were gone for a while,” he says, voice gruffy, and starts leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Yeosang looks at San’s face as he pulls away. “Just relax and let me take care of you, birthday boy,” he smirks and leans up to reconnect their lips in a sweet kiss. 

Yeosang feels safe beside San like this. Despite the lack of clothing he’s warm, the slimmer boy doing an excellent job at playing part time furnace. Not that he needs a furnace in the summer, but that’s not the point. He feels protected, both his mind and his surroundings. It feels new, and it should, he and San have never gone beyond a few handsy occasions and maybe a peck or three. He hasn’t gone too far with anyone, really. 

Sure, he’s imagined stuff, it’s hard not to when he sees San every day. In the morning with bed hair and eyes half closed, during dance practice (which ultimately is Yeosang’s favourite kind of San, although he might need to reconsider now), and in the evenings when he’s tired and smiley and hugging Shiber while he eats, he sees it all. But the anticipation about what’s actually _happening_ makes Yeosang’s control over his own body dissipate faster than that damn anti-bacterial hand wash Seonghwa carries with him everywhere.

It feels good being with San. But he knows something’s not right when San straddles his waist, his ass digging into his trapped thighs. It’s not right. He swallows. “San…” he starts, voice weak.

“Yes, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs against the skin of his collarbone, biting just hard enough to cause a shiver to run down Yeosang’s spine. “What is it, baby, what do you want?” He drags the tip of his tongue along the vein of his neck, ending it with a sloppy kiss below his ear. “I’ll do anything for you,” he finishes, heavy-lidded eyes seeking Yeosang’s through the damp bangs that’s partially covering them. Yeosang thinks it’s deadly. 

“No, San,” he pushes lightly at the other’s shoulders, “please get off,” he states, determined eyes meeting the other’s, which are now filled with confusion.

It takes a second for the words to register in San’s head, but once they do he scrambles off at the speed of light as if burned. He looks apologetic, but unsure of why he should be and awaiting clarification sitting at the end of the bed. Yeosang briefly notices he resembles a lost puppy and looks away, guilt rolling heavier in his stomach for every step he takes towards the door. San has done so much for him, just to make him happy. And now he’s leaving. Without a word. He doesn’t really know what to even say, he’s confused too. His dick is telling him ‘yes’ while the rest of him screams ‘no!’, and he knows better than listen to his dick.

But somehow leaving like this hurts less than telling him it feels wrong. No, not wrong, just… not right. Lost puppy would turn into kicked puppy, he’d blame himself and overreact and try so _so_ hard to make it alright again and Yeosang can’t handle him begging on his knees – 

Yeosang freezes in his tracks with his hand gripping the door knob. San shuffles to his feet behind him, and Yeosang can feel the hope in his eyes scorch black marks into his back. 

“I, um,” he begins, “I just need to go to the bathroom. Could you bring me a glass?” he asks, looking over his shoulder.

San nods eagerly and pushes the door open to rush to the kitchen, stubbing his toe at the door frame and ends up hopping there instead. Yeosang waits for another second to be sure he’s out of earshot, and dives into the bottom drawer of his dresser, desperately searching through the contents for the one object in mind. _Bingo_. He reaches the bathroom just in time to hear the cupboard close, and splashes water in his face to maintain his act. 

“Here,” San says sweetly as he enters quietly and places the glass in front of Yeosang, who mumbles a quiet thanks into the towel. 

He sees San in the corner of his eye, fidgeting with the hem of a new shirt he’s put on, anxiously waiting for Yeosang to say something, anything, as he fills the glass. He makes sure to drink his water slowly, not really needing it in any way other than to torture the other for a few more moments. San’s eyes are staring at the way his Adam’s apple moves, mesmerised by the way it goes up and down, and then catching himself doing it and looks down at his feet. He startles a bit when Yeosang puts the glass down a little harder than necessary.

Yeosang takes one, two, three quick strides and slams the door shut behind San, trapping his startled form against it. He keeps his arm beside his head, leaning close enough for their breaths to mingle. The other hand finds San’s tiny waist, earning a surprised gasp as a cold thumb finds naked skin under the shirt. Benefitting from the easy access, he closes in and shoves his tongue into the younger’s mouth, who shudders into the messy kiss.

Once San catches up and adjusts to the intense pace, Yeosang slows it down to an almost unbearable rhythm. The signs of neglection starts showing immediately on the other, with San gripping onto the fabric of his sweats to pull him even closer in hopes to speed things up again. His bottom lip is caught between Yeosang’s teeth, and his hips press into the thigh between his legs involuntarily. Yeosang uses the hand on his waist to press him flat against the closed door, holding him in place securely and releasing his lip. 

Yeosang opens his eyes to look at San, truly _look_ and take in as much as he can. He likes what he sees. His brow is furrowed, bangs once again sticking slightly to the skin it covers. San’s eyelashes spread over his defined cheekbones, long and curved the most beautiful way. He follows the bridge of his nose to the round tip, then the soft shape of his cupid’s bow. He spends an extra second on the lips, eyes stuck on the normally pink colour that’s now leaning towards red, and the way they’re even more plump from the kissing. He’s breathing hard too, each rise of San’s chest bringing Yeosang’s shoulders (and dick) a little higher.

San whimpers at the lack of affection, his lips forming a pout as he looks up at Yeosang’s face through those damn lashes again. It’s fatal. Absolutely devastating. Yeosang rubs circles onto his hipbone, finger pressing harder into the yielding skin. He ghosts his lips over San’s, the red-haired chasing after, but leans his head back against the door in defeat when Yeosang only smirks in response.

“Are you complaining?” Yeosang whispers against his cheek, nosing along his jawline. 

Another whimper, this time more of a beg for Yeosang to stop teasing, but another complaint still. Yeosang can’t have any of that. He won’t allow it. So he bites into San’s neck, without warning, just at the right spot to make San gasp loudly. He drags his tongue over what’s sure to be a mark later to soothe the skin. San melts into the touch. 

Continuing to plant butterfly kisses everywhere his lips can reach, he moves the hand from the door to the collar of San’s shirt and tugs it down, just enough to reveal the mole in the crook of his neck. They’re already living dangerously, and Yeosang figures a few battle scars are well within reason. He leaves a tiny peck right on top of the mole, then dives in a second time. San groans as he starts sucking, ignoring the other’s half-hearted reprimands about the stylists and company policy. He chokes the rest out in a moan when Yeosang leans flush against him, his dick digging into his thigh. 

Yeosang slaps a hand over San’s mouth, reminding him that there are people nearby. San nods understandingly, and the older replaces the hand with his lips once more. He leads San across the room, him stumbling and only supported by Yeosang’s arms holding his waist and neck. He’s pressed against the wall on the other side, cold tile sending shivers down his spine. 

Yeosang hooks both hands behind San’s knees and hoists him effortlessly into the air. The new angle let’s San get a tasty feel of Yeosang’s clothed erection pressing at his ass, and it makes his toes curl. He never imagined in a million years that Yeosang could be like this, if he knew he would’ve done this long ago.

His back slides against the wall until he’s sitting on the ground. Yeosang keeps kissing him like there’s no tomorrow; it’s messy and sickeningly loud and _perfect_ , and when Yeosang twists his tongue just like THAT San can't do anything but moan. 

Yeosang grabs hold of San’s wrists in one hand, slowly raising them over his head. His hips grind against San again, and San swears he might pass out from the friction. He’s needy, needy for Yeosang and needy for release, his jeans becoming tighter by the second. His breath hitches when his wrists hit something cold and are kept in place firmly. Yeosang pulls away to stare into his eyes.

It isn’t until he hears the metal clasp around his second wrist that he realises they’re handcuffs. 

“Don’t make a sound,” Yeosang mutters, breath tickling San’s ear, “or I’ll gag you.”

San freezes for a second before laughing nervously. “Oh yeah? Is that a gag in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” he smirks back, tone of voice confident and smug.

Until Yeosang looks straight at him, dead serious look on his face. His eyes are fiery, blazing with passion and determination, and San recognises the expression from countless practices; Yeosang always has that expression when he’s taking on a challenge. A chill runs down his spine.

Yeosang presses his left knee between San’s legs, spreading them just enough to fit, but the movement causes the tight jeans to rub against the younger’s sensitive erection in an uncomfortable manner, and he mewls silently. Yeosang pulls San’s chin to look at him as he leans down onto one elbow, slipping a hand under his shirt to hold his side. The other releases his chin and lets it travel down his chest, purposely brushing over a hard nipple on the way. Much to San’s displeasure, it halts right above the waistband of his jeans, and he tries to shift his body to make it reach. 

“Impatient already?” Yeosang snickers, grabbing a fistful of San’s shirt. “But, baby, we’re just getting started,” he murmurs and pushes the shirt up to his chest.

San shivers when Yeosang’s tongue presses flat against his nipple. A hiss escapes his lips involuntarily, and Yeosang bites in return, causing San to arch his back into him. Yeosang loves how the other is responding so easily to him, the slightest touch turning him into a complete mess. 

Another whimper from San, who’s making an effort at staying as quiet as Yeosang needs him to be and failing miserably. Yeosang is exploring his upper body, mapping his way with wet kisses and blowing cold air onto the conquered areas. By the time he reaches the navel, San is twisting and turning any way he can in his restrained position, which isn’t a lot. Yeosang takes it all in, thriving in the way he’s rendered San defenceless.

He looks up at the other’s face, waiting for him to look down. Only then does he pop open the button of his bulging jeans and peels them down. San sighs, relieved to be rid of the painful pressure as he inwardly curses the inventor of skinny jeans. Relief doesn’t last for a long time. Yeosang lets his warm tongue drag from his hipbone and all the way to the dark hairs of his happy trail. If San cared a tad more about his mental health he’d look away, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of the way the dark-haired tugs San’s jeans down and off, his eyes nearly black with hunger, much resembling a predator eyeing its prey. _Yup, he’s gonna see that in his dreams for the rest of his life_.

Yeosang can feel San’s eyes boring into him and he looks up. His lips form the sweetest smile, those that Yeosang and Yeosang only could ever offer, and San’s positive the boy in front of him is a blessing in disguise. Although he’s not really religious, he’s convinced there’s angels singing in the background somewhere. But the pure moment is gone as soon as it appeared, and with a devilish glint in his eye, Yeosang drops his head to slide his tongue over San’s still clothed dick and keeping eye contact. The entire time. 

San can’t do anything but throw his head back and let a loud moan escape the back of his throat. He’s pretty sure he almost came at the sight. _Fucking demon_.

Immediately, all contact ceases and San regrets it in a split second. 

“I warned you,” Yeosang states coldly, with a teasing undertone to it, “open up.”

San looks into his eyes, desperately fumbling for words resembling an apology, but ends up stammering for Yeosang to come back instead. Yeosang ignores his attempts at forgiveness and beckons him to lean forward. San understands that his chance has been spent and he wordlessly complies. The back of his shirt is lifted over his head and twisted into a make-shift rope. Yeosang presses it into his mouth, making sure it’s tight, and then brings the front of the grey tee behind his neck, creating a sort of tug at the ends of San’s mouth. Yeosang works fast with skilled hands, and San has suspicions that he might’ve underestimated the boy’s experiences. 

“You’ve been bad, baby,” Yeosang bites at his ear, “I told you to be quiet.” His lips move along the sharp line of San’s jaw, carefully biting and nibbling at the places that make him squirm in his shadow. “We wouldn’t want anyone to know about our little secret, right?” Yeosang presses the heel of his palm into San’s dick and San breathes out hard. “It’d be a shame if anyone walked in and saw you like this, all tied up and helpless,” Yeosang mumbles this while staring into San’s eyes to see his reaction, “ready for the taking.”

San’s pupils dilate to at least twice the size they were a moment ago. Yeosang smiles, feeling the other’s dick twitch hard against his palm. 

“Oh, but you do want someone to see,” Yeosang states rather than asks, and San glances at the door for a second, wondering if Yeosang ever locked it. As if reading his mind, Yeosang leans in so close their noses almost touch, one eyebrow lifted. “No fun unless there’s a real danger of being caught, right?” he purrs and rips the gag out.

As soon as their lips connect San’s mind go blank. Yeosang’s hand is adding more and more pressure onto his dick, his tongue licking wherever it can reach, not leaving anything untouched. His free hand tugs at his hair to force his head back, effectively deepening the messy kiss more than San thought was possible. He’s gonna die and it’ll be Kang Yeosang’s fault. He can feel Yeosang getting impatient, the hand grabbing him through the underwear now sloppy, hips rutting against the thigh he’s sitting on to relieve himself of some of his own pressure.

San moans into Yeosang as his fingers grab onto the elastic waistband and forcefully tugging them down. Again, the older stops everything, but not before biting down hard at San’s lower lip. The gag is put back in place, once more digging into the corners of San’s mouth. 

Yeosang stares down at him from where he’s seated between both of San’s legs now, studying the other closely. San’s eyes are also trained on the heavily breathing Yeosang, begging him to come back, trying his best to convey that he’s sorry, he won’t do it again he promises to be quiet, he’ll do anything – 

Yeosang pulls the shower curtain to hide himself from view, but leaves it open enough for someone to see San cuffed to the tap if they should enter. San’s eyes stay on the door, not noticing Yeosang laying down. Yeosang puts his index finger on the head of San’s dick, pushing it this way and that. San startles at the contact. 

“So,” Yeosang asks suddenly, San turning to him, “who is it?” His feet are swaying in the air behind him, his head tilted to the left and supported by one hand. “Is it Wooyoung?” San blinks and shakes his head slowly. A hand wraps around the head. “Hmm, then Mingi maybe?” Yeosang ponders, more to himself than San. San still shakes his head no. “Then who? You can tell me, San,” he comforts, that devilish smirk back in action, “except you can’t.” 

Yeosang leans down to lick at the head of San’s dick, pre-come running down he length. San reacts instinctively, trying his best to buck his hips to meet the warm mouth. Yeosang bends his left knee and digs his nails into the back of his thigh, the muscles flexing under the fair skin. San desperately wants to tangle his fingers into Yeosang’s fluffy hair, but his fingers are bound to grasp at air.

“Not so fast,” Yeosang teases, grabbing the base and pumping slowly, “We have all the time in the world,” he murmurs, slapping the dick onto his closed mouth to smear pre-come all over his smirking lips. 

San really thinks he’s gonna explode soon if things don’t speed up in the next 30 seconds. Yeosang has always been pretty, that’s a fact, but smiling up at him from his position between his legs, his hand on his dick and licking away his trace from the corner of his mouth? Truly fucking ethereal.

“Mowuahuh,” he tries at first, Yeosang holding a hand to his ear to make him repeat. “Hwogmahng,” he tries again, a bit louder. Again, Yeosang doesn’t get it. San takes a deep breath as he prepares to repeat once more. “Shomha-“

At that moment, Yeosang takes all of him, his dick hitting the back of Yeosang’s throat, and swallows. San sees stars and planets and distant galaxies for a second and ends up screaming the last part much louder than he intended.

“Hung!”

“I see, Seonghwa-hyung, huh?” Yeosang feigns realisation, and San realises he’s been played; he feels like an idiot but Yeosang already knows he loves it. “I bet you’d love to see his blonde head between your legs like this. Hear his sweet voice screaming your name.” Yeosang is mouthing from top to bottom, always making sure to maintain eye-contact. “Do you imagine his tongue doing these things? His beautiful lips stretched around you?” Yeosang licks from the base to the tip, collecting the new bead of pre-come that has run down the length. “Tears in his eyes as you mercilessly fuck into his mouth? Or is it perhaps," Yeosang pauses, biting his lip in thought, "the other way around?”

Something in San stirs at that, and he squirms under Yeosang’s gaze. The other smiles victoriously and swivels his tongue around the head. He lets the pre-come and saliva he’s gathered drip onto the tip in thick drops, using his hand to cover the length in it. He locks eyes with San and sucks at the head, before slowly going down and up again, teeth grazing the vein on the underside. San shudders, thigh muscles spasming and a groan sounding from somewhere deep in his throat.

“Why don’t you let him hear your beautiful voice, baby? I know you want to,” Yeosang offers with a thumb sliding over the slit once more, abusing the sensitive skin there. 

San nods weakly, not sure how he’s gonna do that with the gag still in place, but right now his biggest concern is that he needs to come, to get that release, he’s gonna explode soon and Yeosang is going too fucking slow –

And Yeosang’s nose hits the flesh of his stomach. San’s toes curl, his thighs clenching. Yeosang slips his left hand under the bent leg and uses it to grab onto, the other hand resting on his right hip, effectively pinning him into place so he can’t buck up. 

Yeosang swears San’s moan vibrates in the walls long after the sound disappears. He keeps bobbing his head, all the while looking at San’s face, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth as he’s struggling against the gag. He hollows his cheeks and swallows around the tip again, earning another involuntarily loud cry from San that might resemble Yeosang’s or Seonghwa’s name, who’s now twisting and fighting against Yeosang’s weight. Yeosang knows he’s close and pulls off with an audible pop to squeeze firmly around the base of his dick.

San whines, dropping is head back against the wall, exhausted after chasing an orgasm that was ultimately robbed from him. Yeosang strokes him lazily, shushing him softly. His dick is sensitive, even more so than before, thighs aching from all the tension. There are tears mingled in his eyelashes, threatening to spill any second.

“We’re not done yet baby, I’ll make you feel real good soon, okay Sannie?” Yeosang says and kisses away a lone tear rolling down his cheek. San nods, and Yeosang swears he’s getting drunk at the sight of San like this, searching for as many details as he possibly can perceive.

Yeosang suddenly feels the need to outdo himself. He’ll wreck San completely.

The gag is removed from San’s mouth. Yeosang’s finger trails from his chin to press at his lips, wiping the drool away. San takes them into his mouth, sucking and licking eagerly, craving praise and to hear that he’s good, that’s he’s doing enough.

A sigh escapes Yeosang, who until now has been able to stay in control. “You’re such a messy boy, aren’t you? So easy,” Yeosang demeans and pulls his hand away from the wetness of San’s mouth. “Spread your legs,” he demands, and San quickly complies. 

San chokes down a moan when a fingertip prods lightly at his entrance. He tries to push against it, to feel it properly and just make it go inside already. His breathing is hitched, alternating between panting and whining for more, grovelling at Yeosang’s mercy. His tightly sealed lips break apart in a loud gasp when the finger enters up to the first knuckle, his head falling back.

Yeosang leans against San, nipping on his shoulder. “Relax, Sannie. I got you, baby,” he soothes, the tight grip around his finger slowly disappearing as he continues to whisper sweet nothings into the younger’s ear. He slowly pushes it in further, letting San adjust to the intrusion before moving again. 

San’s chest heaves up and down heavily, and he swallows hard. Yeosang is quick to add another finger, not waiting long until he’s thrusting in and out in a steady pace. He’s frustrated at his untouched dick, dripping with pre-come and so hard it almost hurts. Yeosang starts scissoring his hole, fingers sinking in deeper than before. They stop right beneath the bundle of nerves, and San lets out a pathetic cry. He’s pretty sure he’s gonna cry if he doesn’t come soon. He’s probably gonna cry if he _does_ come, too, but that’s not the point: he’s itching to get off.

Yeosang slips in a third finger. “You’re taking me so well, Sannie. Like you were made for this,” he breathes, feeling San clench around him in response. “You like that? You like being praised, huh?” He latches his mouth onto San’s nipple, sucking harshly. San lets out a strangled whine, arching into his touch and he speeds up his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so pretty love, wrapped around me like this,” he growls, almost possessively so, and bites down on the nipple.

San’s high-pitched moan resonates between the bathroom walls as Yeosang wraps the other hand around his weeping dick, pumping fast. At the same time, he angles his hand, ramming his fingers straight into his prostate over and over again. Yeosang matches the pace of both hands, unrelenting as he edges the other closer to his release. 

San’s mind is telling him to keep it down, there are six others at home and he’s pretty sure he can be heard pretty far down the hall, but the lack of pleasure has now become _too_ much. His thighs are shaking. Tears are streaming down his face as he keeps repeating “Please” and “Hyung”. The knot that’s been steadily growing in the lower part of his abdomen is tightening, and he wails that he’s gonna come soon.

Yeosang squeezes the vein at the base of San’s dick, stopping him for reaching his orgasm. The fingers abusing his prostate doesn’t let up in the slightest, and San is overstimulated. It hurts to the extent he wants to tell Yeosang to stop, but he doesn’t, he can’t. The pain feels too good.

“Just a little more, baby, you’re doing so well for me,” Yeosang pants into San’s mouth, who’s full out sobbing. He keeps going, the other twisting and squirming and crying to let him come. “Come for me, baby,” Yeosang demands and strokes twice, twisting his hand on the upstroke like he does on himself. San’s scream of pleasure as he comes into his hand is swallowed by Yeosang’s lips, his tongue licking into his mouth as he lets him ride out his orgasm. 

When he finally pulls away, there’s a string of spit connecting their lips. Yeosang is utterly intoxicated at the work of art in front of him. He’s a hundred percent positive that San has never looked more beautiful than now; cheeks flushed a bright pink, lips swollen and red, eyes bloodshot from crying and sweat rolling down his temple. His hair looks more like a nest than anything else, strands sticking to his forehead. 

In other words: He looks completely wrecked.

Once San is back to himself, he watches Yeosang intently as he licks San’s come off his hand. Once his hand is clean, Yeosang reaches for the handcuffs. They open, San’s arms falling limply in his lap. San’s shirt is discarded on the floor somewhere along with the handcuffs. The older orders him on his knees, instructing him to keep his arms behind his back. San whines in frustration of not being able to touch the other, his fingertips tingling to grab onto anything he can. Yeosang leans in and presses his lips on San’s, a welcomed gentle kiss, San melting into the lazy dance of lips.

Yeosang’s tongue asks for admission, and San accepts as the older’s hands come up to hold his face. San’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets at the bitter taste of his own come being forcefully pushed into his mouth. His arms come up to push at Yeosang’s chest, but with the grip on his face holding him in place, he doesn’t budge. But then Yeosang swirls his tongue the way San loves, and he can’t help leaning into the brunet.

They pull apart breathless and spent. Their foreheads are touching, and San catches Yeosang’s eyes. They stay like this for a few long seconds until San breaks the silence.

“Please let me suck you off.”

Yeosang chokes on his spit, a bright blush creeping up all the way from his chest. 

“You- what, you don’t- I mean,” he stutters, brain malfunctioning.

San is already tugging his sweatpants down, smacking his ass to make him stand up. Yeosang complies, mind still hazy from the surprise proposal, his legs threatening to buckle any second. Suddenly cold air is rushing to his dick springing free from the clothing, and a shiver runs down his spine. San doesn’t waste a second to wrap a hand around him, pumping slowly. Yeosang takes a sharp inhale and supports himself against the wall, face hidden in the crook of his elbow.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy after all that?” San chuckles.

Yeosang peeks down at San, who looks him straight in the eyes when his tongue licks from the base to the tip and takes him into his mouth. Yeosang’s legs are already shaking, the adrenaline from a few minutes ago feeding his courage now drained and leaving him with the balance of a new-born deer calf.

“San,” he whines, embarrassed at the teasing.

San responds by humming around his dick, sending vibrations straight to the knot in Yeosang’s stomach. His hand lands on San’s shoulder, and San grabs it. He intertwines their fingers and bobs his head down as far as he can without gagging. Yeosang lets out a groan.

“Fuck, San. So warm,” he hisses, and San repeats the movement. 

Yeosang’s fingers grip harder around San’s, who guides them to his hair instead. Then he places both hands on the back of Yeosang’s thighs and dives down. This time he goes further, ultimately gagging around Yeosang. He earns a loud groan from the other, the sound giving him resolution. San goes faster, takes him deeper, until Yeosang is struggling to stand still. San can feel his muscles clench and twitch under the burning hot skin, and he knows Yeosang’s nearing his climax. He pulls off with a pop.

“Sangie,” he starts, waiting for the other to look back into his pleading eyes, “can you fuck into my mouth?”

Judging by the way Yeosang’s eyes darken and his hand tugs hard at the locks on San’s head, he takes that as a yes. Leaning in, he takes Yeosang into his mouth again, his dick heavy against his tongue. He nods at Yeosang that he’s ready. 

He takes an experimental thrust at first, careful and cautious, but seems to gain confidence in the way San gags and puts more into the next. Soon he’s going at a steady pace, using the hand in San’s hair as leverage. He’s panting harder than ever, breath hitching and uneven.

“Holy fuck,” he chokes out when his dick hits the back of San’s throat.

San’s jaw is aching, his eyes brimming with tears, the Yeosang’s sounds making his head spin. It doesn’t take long until Yeosang’s hips stutter in their movements, his dick twitching hard. He comes with a loud moan, head leaned back as he keeps fucking into San to ride out his high. San takes it all and swallows around his dick. A shudder runs through Yeosang, and had it not been for San supporting his thighs he would’ve collapsed on the spot. 

San releases Yeosang and kisses his hipbones gently. Getting to his feet, he has to hold onto Yeosang’s shoulder. His body is stiff from sitting for so long, muscles aching and his mind screaming for sleep. He nuzzles into the crook of Yeosang’s neck.

“Let’s take a shower,” he murmurs against the warm skin, “and maybe actually fuck me next time.”

Yeosang is blissful, happy, euphoric, everything all at once and yet no words can describe how he feels in this moment. Maybe he should listen to his dick more often after all. 

Or, at least put his heads together once in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking time to read this! It's my first smut and I'm super excited about actually finishing it, I have a sad habit of abandoning things I start on ooof...  
> it was both fun and challenging to keep writing all the way until the end, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it!  
> Kudos and comments are always very much welcome, thank you <3  
> Come yell at me on twitter, @opphwasbaby !  
> 


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